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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29734848">Guidance in a Book of Hours</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/jettiebettie/pseuds/jettiebettie'>jettiebettie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Devil May Cry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood Drinking, Blood and Injury, Drugged Sex, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, M/M, Mild Gore, Painplay, Post DMC4, Religious Content, Sex Magic, Some Plot, Weird Biology, Witch V (Devil May Cry), demon biology</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:02:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,029</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29734848</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/jettiebettie/pseuds/jettiebettie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Do you know anyone who messes with this kind of stuff?" Nero does his best not to fidget under her assessing stare.</p><p>"I might," Trish eventually says. "There's a witch I met a while back who studies demons."</p><p>"Really? Where are they?"</p><p>"Slow down, boy. Witches can be nasty to deal with. This one especially. Study is a word I used to be polite. One look at you and he might swallow you whole."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nero/V (Devil May Cry)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>83</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Guidance in a Book of Hours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Maria was lamenting that there are very few Witch V fics, so I decided to add that to my current examination of Nero's power absorbing ability and also his status as a recovering church boy, because those things just so easily go together and are not at all being shoehorned into the same concept. ;;;</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Use your strength to protect another. There is no greater act. </em>The Path of Justice, Second Precept</p><p>"You the bastard who left me here?"</p><p>"No."</p><p>The reply is terse. Simple and without Dante's usual dramatics. Quiet even, yet filled to the brim with things unsaid. He knows something, may know everything, but Nero sees the wall he's built around the subject. No matter how hard he hits against it, he can tell Dante won't give.</p><p>But he did say they were the same, right?</p><p>Dante has power unlike Nero has ever seen. Their first fight alone set him apart from anything Nero was used to fighting, but the moment he pulled the sword from his chest as if it were nothing more than an inconvenient splinter, Nero knew he was witnessing something above and beyond what he thought possible. </p><p>He thinks about it a lot. Many late nights are spent staring at his right arm, wondering. The beating he took in the Order's lab seemed like a one-off; the power of uniting with the strange sword Yamato was enough to heal him then. Would he have full power like that one day? To be able to always shrug off even the deadliest of attacks, to have a body that can withstand brutality and violence as an afterthought? How many more demons could he rid the world of, how many more lives could he save, if he didn't have to worry about his own?</p><p>For most of Nero's life, he's been stronger than those around him. His natural fighting ability is what garnered him a place within the Knights, despite people's wariness of his questionable origins. No one else could move the same or think on their feet in the heat of battle as quickly and creatively. It was as if fighting this way was innate to him and him alone.</p><p>Until he met Dante and realized he wasn't really alone. Not alone and not nearly as strong as he once thought. But he could be. One day.</p><p>Dante likes to pretend it's such a hardship to indulge him in these sparring matches, but Nero knows better. For all the whining he does about missing his nap time, there's always a fire in Dante's eyes when they fight. Nero would be annoyed by his persistent smile if he didn't know it was born from having a good time and not purely out of condescension. Every time Nero does something unexpected, outlandish, or - dare he say - <em>ballsy</em>, Dante laughs out loud in genuine delight before upping the ante and returning with his own obnoxiously stylish attacks.</p><p>Their skirmish today has reached this particular fervor. The swinging clashes of their swords and whistling of barely dodged bullets have increased to a cacophony of yet bloodless violence. This is the point where calculated moves are pushed to the side in favor of relying on instinct, as if their bodies know how and when to act before their brains do. This is the point that Nero has been secretly working toward.</p><p>He jumps back a few yards, intentionally putting just the right amount of distance between them. He's done his best over these past few weeks to learn Dante's habits. As erratic as the man can seem, even he has his preferred patterns. As if to prove him right, Dante positions himself into a familiar stance, launching forward with a piercing thrust of his sword.</p><p>And Nero doesn't move.</p><p>In between these slowed seconds, Nero forces his sword arm to relax, to fight against every reflex that urges him to defend himself. He sucks in a breath and merely waits, readying his body for the pain to come.</p><p>But it doesn't.</p><p>Just when he thinks he's about to be skewered, Rebellion's forward momentum is stopped so suddenly that Nero wonders for a brief moment if it's been frozen in time. The point presses just close enough to his chest that it irritates the skin without breaking it. Nero's exhale is shaky as he looks up.</p><p>Dante looks terrified. Not surprised, not bemused. There's fear in his face. Actual, honest-to-god fear.</p><p>Rebellion is pulled back, only to be flipped in Dante's hand before the hilt is slammed into Nero's face, sending him flying back. He rolls with the impact when he hits the ground, digging Red Queen in to kill his slide. His cheek stings something fierce. He presses his fist against it to mitigate the ache.</p><p>"What the hell was that?!"</p><p>Nero swallows. He's heard Dante laugh at him before, treat him like a child, and even sometimes like an annoying stray that keeps hanging around. </p><p>But he's never heard him angry, not like this.</p><p>He's grabbed by the lapel of his jacket and yanked to his feet. The fear from earlier is now a snarling fury as Dante glares at him.</p><p>"Answer me, kid!"</p><p>"I-I thought-" Nero stammers. </p><p>"Thought what? That you needed a new hole to breathe from?" Dante shakes him with each question. Nero's not unfamiliar with being scolded, but this is different. This time he actually feels shame welling up. He swallows again and tries to collect himself, holding up his Devil Bringer.</p><p>"The last time I got hurt real bad, this happened. I just thought... maybe that's how it works for me." Nero grits his teeth and clenches his demonic hand into a fist. "There were so many people I couldn't save. If I'd been stronger, Credo might still be alive. But I don't have that kind of power yet."</p><p>Dante's mouth forms a thin line. The anger is still there, Nero thinks, but it's giving way to something else, something sadder and nameless. </p><p>"All you're going to do is get yourself killed. You get that, right?" Dante tells him, his grip on Nero's jacket tightening. "That what you want? To die for something as stupid as power when you have more than enough already? When you have people you'll just end up leaving behind?"</p><p>"What are you talking about?" Nero asks. Dante flinches, blinking down at him as if remembering where he is. </p><p>"Forget it," he says in a tone oddly flat. "Doesn't matter." He let's Nero go, all the fight drained from him as he slings Rebellion over his shoulder and turns away.</p><p>"I just want strength like you have!" Nero shouts after him, desperation creeping in. "You said we were the same!"</p><p>"No, kid," Dante calls back to him. "Not even close."</p><p>Nero doesn't want to admit how much hearing that hurts, more so maybe than even a sword through the chest.</p><p>-</p><p><em>Let not your heart waver in times of trial. Lord Sparda laid before us the Path. We need only to follow it faithfully.</em> St. Camilla, Sister of the Blade</p><p>Screw Dante. </p><p>He's not willing to help, fine, Nero will have to look elsewhere. If the power he seeks can't simply be awakened, then he'll use this right arm of his to take it, just as he had in Fortuna Castle. But artifacts and usable demon corpses such as the ones he found there are not so easy to come by. Finding someone who deals in those things? Sometimes even more difficult. It's risky to turn to the woman Trish, considering how close she is to Dante, but Nero figures she's as good a place as any to start.</p><p>"That's an oddly specific request," she says, eyeing him curiously. Nero does his best to appear nonchalant. </p><p>"Agnus had a lot of weird shit in his notes. I just want to follow up on some of it, ya know? Figure out what's actually dangerous and what's bogus." </p><p>"How thorough of you..." </p><p>"Yeah." Nero rubs the side of his nose, a nervous tic he has yet to do away with. "Anyway. Do you know anyone who messes with this kind of stuff?" He does his best not to fidget under her assessing stare.</p><p>"I might," she eventually says. "There's a witch I met a while back who studies demons."</p><p>"Really?" He can't keep the eagerness out of his voice. "Where are they?"</p><p>"Slow down, boy. Witches can be nasty to deal with. This one especially. <em>Study</em> is a word I used to be polite. One look at you and he might swallow you whole." </p><p>"I can take care of myself," Nero pouts. "Besides, I'm human."</p><p>Trish laughs lightly.</p><p>"Sure," she mocks. "You and Dante both, human as one can possibly be." </p><p>"We're not anything alike," Nero tells her through his teeth.</p><p>Trish must easily detect his sour mood, because she gives him a pitying look that irritates him further.</p><p>"Alright, fine. But let's keep this between us, shall we? If Dante finds out about this, we'll both be in trouble." </p><p>Nero wouldn't have it any other way.</p><p>-</p><p>He's never been to the city Trish sends him to and, having spent his entire life in Fortuna, gets lost a couple of times trying to find the address she'd scribbled on a piece of paper. He actually passes the building twice before realizing his mistake. To be fair, the storefront is bare of any signage. There's no business name posted anywhere, and the only suggestion that this is even a shop is the dark display window presenting rather normal looking books and various trinkets. When he tries to open the heavy wooden door, it doesn't budge.</p><p>Oh yeah. The "password."</p><p>He tries to recall what Trish told him. Top left, center middle, top right. He taps out a series of three knocks in the pattern given and is surprised when he hears the sound of a locking mechanism disengaging. Experimentally, he tries the door again and this time it yields.</p><p>He steps inside, glancing around the room lighted only by the sun coming through the front window, providing the space with an eerie dimness. The door shuts behind him by no effort of his own. It's deathly quiet.</p><p>"Anybody here?" Nero calls into the shop, noticing right away how his voice produces no echo.</p><p>Cautiously and with a hand on Blue Rose, he moves through rows of bookshelves and display cases. He eventually happens upon a counter separating the front shop from the back rooms. A bizarre taxidermy bird sits atop the far edge, and on the middle of the counter lay an open book and a piece of dark, ornately carved stone. Nero approaches curiously, reaching out to examine the manuscript. He stops abruptly when he feels his Devil Bringer pulse underneath the sleeve of his coat. </p><p>"Hey! Hands to yourself, kid! That's not for sale."</p><p>Nero draws his gun and levels it at the voice, surprised to see the large bird stretching out its wings.</p><p>"Easy there, champ. You end up breaking something, you're gonna have to pay for it," it says to him. Its tone is down right conversational and it makes no move to attack him. However...</p><p><em>Thou shalt not suffer a demon to live. </em>First Precept</p><p>He's half-way through squeezing the trigger when the back door opens. Nero keeps most of his attention on the demon, but gives a glance over to his right. A tall, thin man approaches the counter, his eyes calmly taking in Nero's weapon before looking at him directly. </p><p>"It would seem the Order of the Sword is branching out of its isolation." </p><p>Nero finally gives the man his full awareness, shocked to hear the Order mentioned outside of Fortuna. He doesn't recognize this man. Surely anyone would; the tattoos on display leave quite an impression, even if some look like they've yet to be filled in. They span not just his arms, but his chest and even further down- Nero jerks his eyes back up from the laced corset jacket to amused green eyes framed by white hair.</p><p>"Oho~ The Order, huh? You working with that group of weirdos?" the bird asks. Annoyed, Nero readjusts his aim on it before pinning the man with a glare.</p><p>"How did you-" he starts to ask. The man looks pointedly at Nero's coat. Glancing at it, Nero remembers: the insignia he hasn't yet thought to remove from the sleeve is still embroidered there.</p><p>"While your organization's mission is an admirable one, I will have to ask that you refrain from shooting my familiar," the man - surely the witch Trish spoke of - says to him. </p><p>"You keep demons as pets?" Nero asks him.</p><p>"Pet? Hey, buddy, who do you think you're talking to?" The bird spreads its wings even further out to make itself look bigger.</p><p>"Griffon, that's enough," the witch says in an admonishing tone. He holds his hand out and begrudgingly the demon waddles a couple steps before dispersing into a cloud of dark particles. They coalesce into the empty lines of the witch's tattoos, filling them in. Hesitantly, Nero twirls his gun once and holsters it. </p><p>"Your information's a little outdated," Nero tells him. "The Order doesn't exist anymore." The witch seems to take this new knowledge in, but doesn't appear wholly surprised. </p><p>"And yet you walk prepared." Another pointed look, this time to Nero's sword. He shrugs.</p><p>"Devil hunting's still a viable job."</p><p>Nero steps up to the counter proper, looking down at the book. </p><p>"William Blake," the witch says as he reaches to close it. "A personal favorite. And, unfortunately, not for sale."</p><p>"Yeah, that's what the chicken said. I was just looking. Friend of mine still has a Book of Hours that looks a lot like it." </p><p>"An illustrated tome of daily prayers and scripture."</p><p>"It's got songs, too," Nero says absently before remembering himself and turning away, embarrassed. The witch gives him a knowing look. </p><p>"Even if faith is lacking, familiar passages can be a comfort."</p><p>"Not like I would know," Nero lies. "Anyway, I didn't come here about a book-" he stops when he realizes he hasn't caught the man's name.</p><p>"You can call me V," the witch graciously offers.</p><p>"Right. Name's Nero. But, uh, I'm looking for something else."</p><p>Nero can't help but peer over his shoulder, almost as if he expects to see a figure in red standing near one of the bookshelves to drag him out of the shop. V eyes him for a moment before motioning to the carved piece of stone on the counter. </p><p>"This is a fragment of an ancient golem, given life through demonic energy."</p><p>"Yeah, that's not quite what I-"</p><p>"You misunderstand," V interrupts. "Consider this a project of mine, one that I've been having difficulty with as of late. Should I be able to help you, I would expect you to aid me in return as payment."</p><p>"Aid you how?"</p><p>V looks up as if pondering, a secretive smile on his lips. Nero doesn't realize his eyes have lingered there until the man is tucking the book into his clothes. He picks up the stone and turns to the back room, reaching for a cane that had been leaning against the counter. </p><p>"First, let's see if I have what you're looking for, hm?"</p><p>He disappears into the room and Nero stands alone for a moment before understanding that he's meant to follow, feeling a bit weird walking behind the counter without expressed permission. The hallway is narrow, leading to a set of stairs sloping down toward a subterranean level. As they descend, Nero catches glimpses of sigils along the walls that flicker when passed. Barrier wards part for V, and Nero makes sure to stick close lest they re-engage too soon. The last thing he needs is to run face first into one of these things, given how much magic he can taste in the air. No doubt his nose would be numb for a week.</p><p>The door to the basement is already open. The moment he walks through, Nero pauses. This room is better lighted than even the shop, and all around are shelves of fetishes, talismans, heavy books. Spread out on long tables are categorized bones and jars of things Nero has no names for. It's not the sight of this place that makes him hesitant, it's the sheer amount of force he can feel. Every last object here has power. It resonates in the air like a low, almost soundless hum, making the hair on the back of his neck stand.</p><p>"Now," V says, placing the stone on a work desk covered in implements of his craft. "Tell me what it is you need."</p><p>"Uh," Nero nervously breathes, eyes still flitting across the room. "You know, actually... I think I should probably-"</p><p>He makes to back out into the stairwell again, but there's warning buzz and heat gathering at his back, reminding him of the wards.</p><p>"Don't be shy," V insists, his voice strangely inviting. With a flourish of his cane, he motions to his collection. "Surely I have something that suits your purpose. You need only tell me what that purpose is." Perhaps it's the odd way sound is manipulated in this building, but those last words almost seem to reverberate unnaturally. Nevertheless, Nero's nervousness begins to slip from his mind like sand through a sieve. He did come all this way. It would make no sense to turn back now. </p><p>Running a hand over his nose, Nero shrugs.</p><p>"This job's kinda on the dangerous side."</p><p>"Protective amulets are rather simple to find and even easier to make. People do not seek me out for that which is simple."</p><p>"Yeah, okay," Nero sighs to himself, deciding to be more direct. "I don't just want to keep the hits from happening. I wanna be able to take 'em. Not just a few bone breakers, either. I mean the big kind. The fatal kind." </p><p>In his mind's eye he sees it again: Dante pushing himself off of Sparda's statue, sword and all.</p><p>The witch hums to himself, glancing over to the shelves for a moment before seemingly dismissing their contents in favor of those on the tables. He walks down the length of them, engaged in his own evaluation process.</p><p>"Harnessing power such as that is a demanding feat. The rituals are extensive and-" he sighs, unenthused, "-exhausting."  </p><p>"That part won't be a problem," Nero says, angling his body to keep his concealed Devil Bringer from view. Doing this gives him away, though, as V merely smirks.</p><p>"Would that be because of your intriguing right arm?" When Nero tenses, V holds up a hand. "Relax. I merely ask out of professional curiosity. I'd be the last person to make judgments." He turns his hand then to remind Nero of his markings, those that seem able to bind demons to his will. Hesitantly, Nero pulls the sleeve up to the elbow, mirroring V as he holds his hand up.</p><p>"This arm is mine. I didn't take it from anything, but..." Nero closes his mouth tight, wondering why he'd even bother to explain. Despite not finishing his thought, V nods anyway.</p><p>"Are you familiar with Changelings?" he asks suddenly.</p><p>"I mean, I guess? Fairies that take the place of kidnapped kids, yeah?" Nero begins walking along the other side of the table to match V's slow pace.</p><p>"A fascinating bit of human folklore in its own right, but no. I am, of course, speaking of the species of lesser demon. As you would well know, being a devil hunter yourself and all." </p><p>"I'm, uh..." Nero starts, shrugging a bit. "A little new to this whole thing."</p><p>"Changelings survive by adapting to their environment, mostly done through consuming entities native to the region and assimilating the traits necessary to thrive." V stops in front of a jar, tilting his head in consideration for a moment.</p><p>"They sound like Hell's natural thieving cannibals. You saying I'm one of those?" </p><p>"Doubtful. I'm merely pointing out the similarities."</p><p>Something pricks at the back of Nero's mind. Just how much does this guy already know?</p><p>V picks up the jar and Nero can see something organic and round lay inside. When V gives it a gentle shake, the contents begin to glow a bright green.</p><p>"This was pulled from a new breed of a rather annoying demonic species. It's a sac that produces a healing fluid. Contact with that fluid can even revive a creature on the brink of death."</p><p>Nero finds himself captivated by the acidic glow and all its possibilities. Brink of death, huh? How would something like that manifest in him? Would he vomit green ooze until he got better? Maybe leak it from his pores every time he got roughed up. Would it feel like venom in his veins? Realizing that his right hand is half way to touching the jar, Nero stops.</p><p>Dante never vomited ooze, never looked like his healing hurt. Dante never needed anything other than himself.</p><p>V raises an eyebrow at his uncertainty. </p><p>"Isn't this just proof of weakness?" Nero asks, his voice almost an angry sigh. He looks at the shining palm of his hand. "Having to use something outside of myself to gain strength?" </p><p>"The Order developed many methods to compensate for the power they lacked naturally. Do you feel the same way about your sword? Your gun?" V asks him in reasonable tones.</p><p>"Those are different," Nero says, though he has no argument for how.</p><p>"It doesn't matter how strength is gained. Only that you have made it yours."</p><p>"Yeah, but-"</p><p><em>Humanity is weak; we honor the Dark Savior by striving to overcome our limitations to achieve His word.</em> Bishop Fedel, The Path Explained</p><p>Nero has both heard and read the scriptures hundreds of times in his nineteen years. He always thought he understood their meanings just fine. Now, he's not sure understands anything.</p><p>"This ability in and of itself is a form of strength," he distantly hears V say. "It would be a shame not to utilize it to its fullest potential." </p><p>"All that matters..." Nero mutters. </p><p>"Is seizing your power," V finishes for him, holding that back of Nero's scaled hand as he presses the jar into his palm.</p><p>Nero takes a breath and shatters it in his grasp. </p><p>Broken glass falls to the floor as a bright light emanates from the Devil Bringer, absorbing the foreign tissue into itself. As with any other time he's done this, there's a quick moment when his arm grows unbearably hot before settling again. The light fades and his scales shift slightly. It's over in the blink of an eye. In said blink, V has somehow migrated from his side of the table to stand next him, curious eyes fixed on Nero's arm.</p><p>"I guess I feel a little different, but..." Nero turns his hands over as he examines them, runs them along his torso, feeling nothing necessarily out of the ordinary.</p><p>"Let's experiment," V says, a warm hand curling around Nero's shoulder before the sharp end of the cane is driven into his abdomen.</p><p>Nero lets out a shocked sound even as V steps in close, slowly pushing the cane further in until he can feel it puncture through his back. His hands come up to grip V's arms, his mind racing. How could he let this happen? How could he let this random witch land a fatal blow?</p><p>His breathing catches every so often, but despite the pain his heart is beating steady and he's still standing on firm legs. Nero swears he can feel his insides squirming, pressed aside by the metal rod and forcing themselves to accommodate, forming around the intrusion - in <em>spite</em> of it - and continuing on as normal. The bleeding becomes sluggish. The edges of torn skin seal shut. With a shuttering exhale, Nero looks up.</p><p>V looks fascinated. Enthralled, even, as he uses a slender finger to pull at the tear made by his cane. And now, with parted lips and eager eyes, he watches Nero heal. V smirks.</p><p>"Is this what you wanted?" </p><p>Pressed this close, Nero can feel the breath of V's almost-whispered words. He swallows and tries to answer, but V begins to pull the cane out. Nero grits his teeth against the dull ache of it reopening internal wounds. </p><p>Almost as quickly as the cane retreats, his body is righting itself; flesh knits closed, organs realign. But while his newly found power does its job, his human systems are still trying to do theirs by managing the rapidly fading pain. As intense as that pain had started, the amount of endorphins in his bloodstream now have nothing left to combat, leaving him feeling lightheaded and tingly. </p><p>Blinking to focus himself, he watches as V runs his fingers along his stained cane, gathering the blood in his hand to bring up to his mouth. The witch drinks what small amount is there, humming his approval.</p><p>"And it seems there is just enough of what I want in you," he chuckles, but Nero can't concentrate on that, not when his blood is smeared on those plush lips. Irrationally, he is filled with a desire to reclaim it, letting his head lull forward so that he can lick at V mouth, tasting the tang of copper on his tongue. He doesn't get it all the first time, goes in for another swipe, and another-</p><p>A hand grabs his jaw, not harshly, but enough to hold him in place. He hears himself whine as V examines his face. It takes him an embarrassingly long moment to realize what he's done. He feels himself flush, eyes going wide. Before he can apologize, however, the hand pulls him in and teeth sink into his lower lip, blunt at first but with enough force to eventfully pierce through. He cries out again. Teeth are removed and blood runs down his chin in their absence. V holds his lip down, watching closely as the skin comes together. </p><p>"Surely this isn't the extent of it," V says, using his thumb to wipe the blood away before placing it in his own mouth, seeming to revel in the taste. "Some stress testing is in order, I think." </p><p>A hand on his chest begins to push Nero backward, and for the life of him he can't gather the will to stop it. Nor does he stop V from using the hook of his cane to unlatch the Red Queen from her harness at his back, tossing both to side onto an awaiting table. Portions of the markings along V's arms and torso fade as blackness pools beneath their feet and squirms behind Nero. He's not sure what's happening until he eventually hits a wall. He hasn't looked away from V's eyes this entire time, can't really seem to bring himself to. The hand leaves his chest and V steps back. Confused, Nero makes to push off the wall.</p><p>Four large black needles violently tear through his body from behind. Two shatter his ribcage on either side, another pierces through his lower abdomen. But it's the one that protrudes from the hollow of his throat that he feels the most. </p><p>He chokes, unable to draw breath around the spike or the blood that's begun to gurgle up into his mouth. Panic surges through him, human instinct desperate to find some way to get air to his spasming lungs. He's dying, he can feel it, can see it through tear filled eyes in the way his vision begins to darken at the edges, he can't breathe he can't breathe he can't-</p><p>A wheezing sound escapes his lips, the barest amount of oxygen finally reaching his brutalized airway. Again, he feels his insides shift. His severed trachea snaking to find a better position for itself to function once rejoined. It's by no means easy to take a breath, but he <em>can</em>, he's still alive, and the pain... There is no pain. From his throat or from his other wounds. This power has already forced his body to accommodate to these new conditions, healing the damaged flesh and nerves. All that's left is his silly human brain that hasn't caught up yet, pumping him full of chemicals that leave him borderline euphoric.</p><p>It's good. He feels <em>so good</em>.</p><p>Shivering and gasping, his eyes roll up, forcing the tears hanging at the edges to fall. A gentle hand caresses his hair as a voice shushes him. </p><p>"I'll admit I'm impressed," V says in his ear. "You adapt so quickly." </p><p>Nero tries to say something, but blood bubbles out instead. The spike in his throat retracts, but only enough to allow V to lean closer.</p><p>"Seeing what a satisfied customer you are, I'll be taking my payment now." </p><p>V presses their lips together, his tongue delving in to claim the blood inside. In his pleasurable haze, Nero can only hold his mouth open, relishing the warm, wet slide of it. The kiss becomes tacky, their skin sticking together occasionally until V licks at the drying mess. As he does, a faint purple light briefly emits from his tattoos.</p><p>"Blood is an excellent conduit for demonic essence. However, it's not the only one. What do you say?" </p><p>Nero's too focused on how red V's mouth has become that he startles when a hand cups the crotch of his jeans. He moans and it's a strangled, raspy sound. How long has he been hard? V must take the pathetic noise for acquiescence because he smiles, laves the edge where skin meets spike at his neck with his tongue and then sinks to his knees, minding the other black needles on his way down. Dexterous fingers undo Nero's belt buckle and zipper, wrapping around his erection with a tenderness that stands in stark contrast to the vicious spike jutting out from just above his hip. </p><p>The first upstroke drags another whimper from Nero's lips, causing him to choke on the remaining blood in his throat. He tries to stifle his cough but it escapes between his fingers, a red spray raining down to paint the top of V's white hair. The witch seems undeterred, continuing his tortuously sweet ministrations. </p><p>"I imagine you'll acclimate over time. This overreaction will lessen considerably once you're used to it." V trails his lips across Nero's exposed hip, biting harshly enough to break skin and make him hiss. "Enjoy it while it lasts."</p><p>He mouths at the disappearing mark while calmly teasing Nero's cock with sadistic softness. More blood seeps through Nero's fingers as he coughs again, taking in a wet and shaky breath. The taste in his mouth is metallic, the scent of magic permeating the room is heavy in the air. Neither helps to ground him and in fact only seem to push Nero higher.</p><p>When V's lips move from his hip to his shaft, he almost bucks. A hot tongue runs along the underside, tracing the vein until it reaches the head. It isn't easy to angle his chin down thanks to the needle in his throat, but he manages enough to see the blur of V's hair bob as he takes him into his mouth. </p><p>Nero throws his head back, forcing the spike to tear again through his airway. But that brief flash of pain is nothing compared to the heat encasing him. Even if he had the wherewithal to take note of the warm trails of blood running down his front, he'd still lose himself entirely to the way V's lips wrap around him or how perfectly he sits on the man's tongue. His Devil Bringer digs into the wall behind him, if only to keep himself from clawing into V. But whatever creature is at his back takes offense to the attack, retracting the spike in his neck to shoot another through his right shoulder in retaliation. </p><p>He pitches forward this time, taking in full gasps of air for the first time in minutes. Doing so causes a second shower of blood over V's upturned face. Only now Nero can see it properly, can see the way those lips drag across his cock, how those green eyes watch him closely as V takes him just a little deeper. It only amplifies the pleasure he feels. Nero can't stop himself from reaching out, human fingers smearing the flecks of blood on V's brow as he pushes his fingers through silky hair. V hums around him, making him shiver. As if to reward Nero's pliancy, V sinks further down to let the head of Nero's dick graze the back of his throat.</p><p><em>More</em>, Nero thinks. There has to be more. More of this heat, more of this pleasant feeling. Surely he can soar higher than this. </p><p>His resting hand suddenly takes firm hold, stopping V's deliciously rhythmic movements to manually pull him forward. A surprised sound vibrates against him, and his first thrust doesn't get him much further. But V's hands brace on his thighs as he relaxes his jaw. The spike in his hip limits his motion, so Nero grips V's hair and uses it to move the witch's head in counterpoint to his stilted shoves. It takes a couple of tries but eventually V's nose is pressed against his abdomen, the entirety of Nero's cock buried inside his mouth. Hands dig into Nero's thighs as V's throat spasms around him, tight and impossibly good. Nero does it again and again, wondering if it feels just as overwhelming to V as it had been for him to have something violate him in the most blissful, breathless way.</p><p>V hands curl around to the back of his thighs, urging him on. Nero watches the man's pretty face flush a deep red and tears form at the corner of his bewitching eyes. Those eyes are daring him to come, to finally reach as high as he can go and come tumbling down. And he wants to, <em>goddamn</em>, he wants to. But his nerves are all out of whack, too much sensation, too many signals. It's oppressive and not enough at the same time. He whines desperately, unsure how to reach that peak on his own, his movements becoming jerky and uncoordinated. </p><p>A band of black shadow attaches to his left arm, yanking it back to the wall before snapping it in two.</p><p>White hot pleasure tears through his spine like lightning. He shouts, spilling into V's mouth as he trembles. V's hands rub soothing motions into his legs, coaxing out every last drop with his tongue. In his haze, Nero can barely make out the flashes of purple light through his tattoos as he does.</p><p>As V pulls away from his softening member, the spikes retreat from Nero's body, remerging with the witch. No longer being held up, Nero's legs give out from under him and he slides uselessly down, his knees splayed out to make room for the man still crouched in front of him. The wounds have healed before his ass even hits the ground.</p><p>Nero rests his head against the wall, panting. His body thrums with residual pleasure, leaving his limbs feeling numb and heavy. V places a hand on his cheek, leaning in to take one last blood searching kiss. All Nero can taste is himself.</p><p>Half lidded eyes watch as the man stands up and walks to desk. V picks up the carved stone, holding and staring at it with great concentration. The stone radiates that same purple light before exploding into a cloud of dark mist. More tattoos form and black bleeds into V's hair like an ink spill. His now empty hand forms a fist as he smirks.</p><p>"We both seek to draw power into ourselves, to make up for what we would otherwise lack. In this we are the same."</p><p>Nero swallows another mouthful of blood.</p><p>He'll give V all the demonic essence he wants, pump him full of it until he's crying out and raking bloody grooves into Nero's back that will vanish seconds later.</p><p>"Hey..."</p><p>V turns to him and Nero motions with his chin over to the opposite wall.</p><p>"Those fancy knives just for show?"</p><p>The witch follows his gaze to the mounted display of ornate and deadly looking athames. He smiles with blood stained lips.</p><p>"Would you like to find out?"</p><p><em>Act with conviction and commit to the outcome; enlightenment is found in completion.</em> The Path of Justice, Fifth Precept</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>(Nero, honey, maybe don't take life advice from a witch who blows teenagers in his shady basement.)</p><p>"Jettie, this is the second time you've used Shadow to restrain 4Nero in some questionable sexcapades."</p><p>YEAH? AND? She stabbed him this time, it's totally different! ;;;;</p><p>edit (4/6/21): I should have called this fic "Silverpoint"</p><p>..... f u c k</p></blockquote></div></div>
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